Lirael, After Orannis' Fall

(I own nothing)

Renowe

The Dog watched, her ears alert, her tail twitching, as she sat on the border between life and death. The river's usually strong current merely lapped at her feet and stirred the hairs on her tail. Her nose could just barely sense the warmth of Life, but she knew she could not return. Not yet. Not until the time was right.

On the other side of the grayish mist that kept the Dog from her mistress, stood a group of eight people. Two were being supported by the other six and a small, fluffy white cat sat nearby, washing himself unconcernedly

"Nick, tell me again, what happened?" Prince Sameth of the Old Kingdom said. He was tired, and covered in sweat, grime and dust, as were they all. On top of this his best friend, who he had thought lost to the river of Death, had come back, with a charter mark on his forehead and a strange wet dog smell that lingered in the air, even an hour after they had returned.

Lirael was half asleep, supported by her sister Sabriel, and her niece, Ellimere. All three had raven black hair, though Ellimere's was somewhat more contained, pulled back in a precise knot at the back of her head. Nick, sitting on the ground across from them was pale, covered in blue-black bruises retreating from the healing marks that Sam had wearily placed on him, and felt he could only barely whisper what he had tried to say before, "I can't remember, Sam. There was cold. I felt frozen. I couldn't move... And someone said I had a... a Charter Mark? And then I was here. I saw you coming..." He half-smiled and fainted.

Sam looked at his mother and she shook her head wearily, "It's no use asking him now, Sam. He most likely won't remember until he's fully recovered," she said. "For now, let's get ourselves some food and rest. It wouldn't do for the Ancelstierran police to come upon us like this. Even with the evident destruction around here there's no way they'd believe us. So, shall we?"

She and Ellimere began to guide Lirael down the hill towards the stream, where the last of the Southerling Refugees were filing back to their former camp. Sam had gone down to them half an hour ago, to explain what had happened and to make sure they were safe. They had agreed to wait a month, until he and his parents could make arrangements for them to be moved to the other side of the wall, and to be taught about the ways of the Old Kingdom. What was left of the Perimeter garrison that had helped earlier waited there for them as well, and together they trudged up the hill towards the trucks.

A little over an hour later, the two Clayr, Sanar and Ryelle, were sitting in the back of an army truck with Lirael, healing her arm where her hand had been. The truck itself moved along at a jolting gait, the canvas flapping, and the various rusty, mechanical joints squeaking as they went over bump after bump. In the truck in front of them lay Nick, with Sam watching over him. He had just revived from his faint and was staring blankly at the yellow-gray ceiling. He blinked. The canvas overhead had just ripped on its own, creating an opening just big enough for a cat.

And again, he blinked. A cat had somehow managed to appear in the truck next to him. It looked him in the face, green eyes narrowed in amusement, and winked. A second later, Sam groaned. "Sorry, Yrae—Mogge—What should I call you? You're really Mogget anymore, but you aren't Yrael right now, either. Anyways, I haven't got any fish at the moment. Try Ellie, she'll be able to get some off of the Major."

The cat seemed to think about this for a moment before he replied, tail swishing, "You should call me Wong. And I didn't come for fish."

The name didn't seem to fit, but Sam ignored it and queried, "Then what do you want?"

"Alas, even the Prince has no manners," Wong mewed airily, "I came with a message, and small thanks I get for continuing to serve."

"Sorry...Wong. What's the message?"

"Nothing you need to know, obviously, since you can't ever stand a little politeness."

"Mogget."

"Don't call me that! Fine. The Abhorsen and the King wish to speak to you."

"Well, I have to stay here with Nick. Tell them to come here."

"I'm not sending another message. I'll stay here, you go."

Sam eyed the white cat uncertainly. Could he trust him? He decided there was only one way to find out. "Ok," he said, and clambered out of the truck.